A Stitch In Time
by Wolf-Kaiserin
Summary: 18th Century feudal Adurna is invaded by 2 superhuman, warring groups the Vampyres and the Tribe. Vincent Valentine is captured and imprisoned, but 300 years later time catches up with him. What comes first in the heart of a monster? Vengence or love?
1. Chapter 1 The Beginning

**There was a time long ago when peace and prosperity graced the land of Adurna.**

The citizens of the land were healthy and happy, the lords were kind and just, there was no war or poverty. Huge pointed, sharp purple mountains capped with ice and snow lay to the west, the rich farms lay to the east. The Deep forest, where many folklore, legends and threats were invented lay South filled with demons and witchery and evil spirits, and in a time where superstitions were rife and acceptable, they guarded the land from the invaders beyond the boundaries of the woods, keeping the less civilised, more blood thirsty rulers from invading the pleasant land. A sparkling lake lay in the middle of great pastures to the north, that the villages accumulated around.

Small towns and hamlets grouped together with a community spirit that had never been seen in any era of the past or, in fact, any of the future. In the winter strong winds came down from the mountains and blew past the lake, stirring great waves up that made children terrified that they would be washed away. However in the summer there were wild flowers and beautiful insects and bright blue skies with white wool stack clouds. Many believed it to be heaven.

**Suddenly, the Vampyres came.**

Denizens of darkness and despair, said to be spat out from the Deep forest itself, the undead suddenly appeared one night over 300 years before. They kept to the darkness, never straying into the light, they slept in stone caskets that were hidden far into the Deep forest. They had their weaknesses of course, silver and wood, but they had a great strength that put the fear of ages into the citizens of Adurna.

They were strong beyond imagination, there were myths of them tearing ancient, strong solid trees up from the roots with their bare hands, of their skin being granite hard to any weapon that did not contain silver or wood, of them being able to crush boulders in their fists. Then there was their speed. They were said to be so fast they could not be seen, to appear in places in an instant almost. Faster than the wolves that prowled the forests, or the horses that bolted through the paddocks they could outstrip any animal alive, run faster than the wind or the lightening that struck the land, and their heightened hearing and eyesight meant their hunting was more skilled than any mere animal or mortal. Their beauty was unparalleled, they could seduce any soft minded lady to approach them, entice them to follow them... Finally, their were their powers. Their own skills that rivalled those of their enemies, telepathy, precognition, force fields, memory manipulation... Each vampyre had one extra skill to heed their hunting.

Blood. They lived off the life giving substance that came not from animals but from humans. They would stray in from the forest, saunter into the village and capture any wandering human that was outside. Some would even slip into the homes of the people and take them without a second thought. They, their kind and their evil bought a blight upon the beautiful land of Adurna and when the Tribe heard of the demons that terrorized they appeared as unexpected and silently as a morning mist.

**Then the Tribe invaded.**

Fearless warriors with enhanced physical attributes, their hearing was more dog like than human, their fingers lengthened beyond average, their eyesight unfathomable. They were warriors and assassins of the highest order, so soft footed and agile they could never be caught. They were beyond flexible, able to twist and turn into fantastic ways. They were able to integrate themselves into any part of society, from the farmer to the jester to the land owner. Then of course, there were their stronger skills. Invisibility, astral projection, sleep bringing, some even claimed to be able to converse with the dead.

The Tribe were a secret organisation of spies and assassins that nurture the powers the world used to have. It consisted of five families that existed before the lords and the clans, a time when magic was common. Since the time they came about the Tribe had retained their abilities through dedication and training and were frequently employed by various institutions within the countries that existed outside the land of Adurna, only by those they trusted implicitly to keep their secrets. They were feared by all, their very name sent shivers down many a spine, but they had only one fatal enemy whose appearance led them to invade Adurna...

**Then The War Began.**

**10 Years**

Night had fallen and the world as the people of Adurna knew it was silent. All those who lived there were inside, glancing at their partners, children, parents, holding them close. Telling bed time stories, reminiscing, cuddling... Thinking only one thing. Who would be next? Each time they thought it they cradled their loved ones closer, pressing kisses to foreheads and cheeks. No one was outside. No one would risk it, although the streets were probably safer than the homes nowadays.

Times had changes, and so had attitudes. Children could no longer play outside, and women never went anywhere alone. No one hosted parties or get together's any more, many of the drinking houses had shut due to no one visiting at night. The land was no longer peaceful and sound. It was... Cold. And cruel. There was still beauty. The landscape had not changed, it still looked like a haven... However it was nothing short of a hell.

A man with deep red hair stepped through the town quietly, blue eyes shifting over his shoulder. A red coat draped leisurely around his frame and a katara hung loosely from his belt. He strolled through the pitch black streets leisurely, eyes scanning. He wasn't afraid of what the others were. He was the hunter, and he was searching for his prey. His enhanced hearing picked up on footsteps, female, about 25 coming from an alleyway somewhere to his right. He sped up, his own footsteps silent on the ground as he stalked his meal for the evening, unperturbed by morals or conscience as he watched her look around in fear. He was the perfect hunter. She was the sweetest tasting of prey...

Purple hair and reddish eyes, she was short for her age but very pretty. On her hip rested a young baby with blonde hair and blue eyes, about 3 months old and was sleeping soundly. She was hurrying along, stumbling slightly in her haste to get home. It was not safe to be out at any time any more, let alone at this time. She wanted her and her baby home, safe and sound, where none of the 'Jiang Shi' as they had been dubbed could attack them.

As she glanced over her shoulder for what seemed the one hundredth time, she saw her pursuer. The man smirked and sped up as she turned to run, bringing her babe in front of her. But he caught her with ease and slammed her to the floor. She screamed out in pain as she hit her head dropping the baby onto the dirt floor. It woke and started crying loudly, and the man glanced at it.  
"Later." He promised the screaming child with a smirk on his face.  
"No..." The woman whispered. "Please, not my baby..." She shrieked as the monster grabbed her arm. "NO! No don't do this! Let me go let me go! Please! Oh God please!" The man smirked at her as she sobbed and tried to pull her arm back. One hand reached forward and tended before pushing her back into the wall, incapacitating her.

"Please! Don't do this! Don't do this!" She was screaming, hysterical, as the demon sank its elongated fangs into her wrist and started sucking. She grasped at his arm that held her still, digging her nails in. "Stop! Stop!" She screeched and begged as she shook with tears and sobs. She kicked out with both feet, him able to easily support her wait with one shoulder. He didn't even flinch, drinking heavier making her shriek and holler louder. Her scratches and fighting got weaker and weaker as he drained her blood, her energy and her life force, until he removed his restraining hand. Her legs gave way and she sank to her knees, her arm fully extended to his mouth and she stared in horror still pleading as she watched her blood run down the corner of his mouth dripping down his chin. His eyes began to glow as he fed and she died slowly and painfully.  
Once she fell still completely and her face was a deathly pale, the vampyre stepped back and let her lifeless arm fall to the floor and her body keel over, her face contorted with agonised pain hitting the floor facing her child. The baby screamed and wailed, and the demon watched amused as it crawled towards its mother tugging at her face. He stayed there a good 15 minutes, watching as the child tried to rouse her, so she could protect it, crying harder and harder when it wasn't getting the attention it needed. With a sadistic smirk on its face he reached down and picked the child up by one arm. It shrieked and blubbered in pain, but its end was much quicker. The vampyre drank heavily from it and swiftly until it was as cold as its mother, and he also dropped that onto the heap that was its mother. He laughed coldly as he licked his teeth of any remaining nourishment before turning away...

Right into the barrel of a modified pistol sword. His head was thrown back and he let out an agonised, anguished screech as the wooden sword pierced his skin easily, sinking deep inside him. Even with his advanced hearing, he had not heard the black haired, dark eyed man, Kotaro of the Tribe, sneak silently behind him to annihilate him. Kotaro wrenched his weapon up,slicing through the vampyre's skin resting at his heart. The man smirked.  
"Burn in hell." His hissed before firing his gun, containing a silver bullet, into the monsters heart. The vampyre screamed, lashing out at the man in a last ditch attempt to kill his attacker. Kotaro was fast... Not fast enough. The denizens super enhanced strike caught his jaw and throat wrenching it clean out. Kotaro fell to the floor, his eyes glazed over, before his blood ran a flithy river into the streets. The vampyre also, bled from its wounds now dead, all the additional blood it had consumed trickling down and joining with that of the Tribe member. The great war between the enemies had claimed four more victims that night.

On the other side of the small village of Otori, a black haired, red eyed beautiful man was backed into a corner, fear evident in his eyes as 5 members of the Tribe advanced on him. He hissed angrily, eyes searching for an exit between the hardened warriors. He crushed himself against the wall behind him as Akio, at the far left end of the line lashed out with a flaming torch, shrieking in anger as Isuma did the same from the other side. It was their job to keep him distracted long enough for...

They ducked as a rock was thrown at them and the three remaining members, Takeo, Kikuta and Kenji leapt forward as the vampyre tried to escape through the wall. He snarled viciously over his shoulder as they grabbed him and slammed him against the floor. He writhed and bucked, trying to dismount them with his super human strength but they wrenched his arms behind him and chained his wrists together up to his elbows in 24 carat silver. He screamed as his skin started to smoke where the silver touched, writhing in pain, the manacles around his wrists the worst filling the air with a burning smell.  
Takeo, and Kenji jumped back a victorious grin on their faces. Isuma and Akio leapt forward and did the same to his ankles up to his knees, causing him to scream more and writhe in agony. Kikuta didn't move.  
"Kikuta?" Takeo walked over and turned his comrade over to see Kikuta's slack jawed expression, his eyes glazed over. "Kikuta?! Brother! Wake!" He grabbed his best friends and siblings head only to feel thick warm liquid at the back. In the struggled the vampyre had lashed out, knocking Kikuta into the wall with enhanced strength. Killing him. Takeo stared horrified... Before his expression turned sinister. He turned to the restrained vampyre, a murderous look in his eye.  
"Takeo..." Kenji whispered. "Do not..."  
"Murderer..." Takeo hissed advancing towards the vampyre. Said creature got a look of fear in its eyes.  
"I-It was an accident..."  
"MUDERER!" He grabbed a stake that his comrade had dropped raising it above his head.

"He attacked me!"  
"He was my little brother!" Takeo snarled. "You murdered him! Leech!" The others did nothing to stop him. The end result would be this vampires death anyway, how did not affect them. Besides; Takeo deserved revenge.  
"I am truly sorry... It was an accident... I regret -"  
"Do not pretend to be civilized. You blood sucking leech!" Takeo hissed dropping to his knees. "What is your name demon?" The vampyre did not speak. "ANSWER ME!" Takeo struck him with the stake causing the vamyre to yell. He panted heavily in pain before looking up with dull red eyes.  
"Vincent. Vincent Valentine." Takeo smirked, a plan forming.  
"Well, Vincent Valentine." He sneered. "I will give you a fate worse than death." He turned to Isuma. "Get me a coffin." The vampyre froze before struggling.  
"NO! NO, DO NOT!" Takeo smirked evilly as Isuma grinned and ran to the cart hidden round the corner with Akio. "Do not do this! It was an accident!"  
"You will pay."  
"NO!" The vampyre begged and pleaded for mercy, Takeo's grin did not shift. Moments later the others returned with a wooden coffin and 5 stakes.

Kenji got up smirking from where he'd been sitting against the wall.  
"This will be fun..." He said before picking Vincent up and throwing him into the coffin. He struggled weakly, the silver still burning into his skin.  
"Mercy..." He pleaded weakly with Kenji. "Have mercy..." Kenji backed away as Isuma handed Takeo a hammer.  
"Make it hurt." He grinned and Takeo nodded darkly.  
"I intend to."  
Vincent screamed in torment as Takeo hammered a stake into each shoulder and thigh, then one into his hands that were pinned over his head and the final one, that he had hit the vampyre with, into his feet, pinning him into the coffin. There was too much pain for the vampyre to cry, but still venom fell from his eyes in excruciating pain. He could only shriek as they put the coffin lid on, and Akio parted the earth with his magic so deep down that the vampyre would never escape. Kenji and Isuma lowered the casket into the hole and the earth closed over it.  
"Die." Takeo whispered. "Actually, do not. Live for eternity in agony." He took a torch, and set it to the earth making the freshly shifted ground set alight, sealing the ritual. They did not hear the monsters tortured screams from the casket now, as he was sealed away for eternity in pain. So they did not here his curse.

_May Ye of Kind Who Imprison Me Here  
Live Thou Lives In Pain and Fear  
__And While Ye Slay and Plunder Mine,  
__Your Existence Will Be Marred By Time  
__For Thine Shall Curse Thee, Ours Shall Die__  
__For Yours Shan't Live Without My Kind_

**The Tribe and the vampyres were both linked ****indisputably. While ****the ****Tribe members slaughtered vampyres, the curse acted upon their own kind. They died also. For now they relied upon each other for their existence. The Tribe could not survive without the vampyres. Their crusade was at an end.**


	2. Chapter 2 Whispers In The Dark

**300 Years**

Cara sighed and pulled into the gravel drive staring at the house. Old. Dilapidated. Somehow still standing... She groaned.  
"Fan... Tastic." She muttered shaking her head. In the glove compartment of her brand new pride and joy were the deeds to this monstrosity of early 20th century architecture which she had received, completely out of the blue, when a lawyer from Stanford and Sons Legal Representative had rang her. Uncle Hubert, some ancient crazy relative that she'd adored as a young child had decided to give her his entire and somewhat substantial fortune.

The best thing was, of course, the Aston Martin Vanquish. Her dream car of about five years old she never thought in her life she'd have been able to own one. Uncle Hubert had one. In fact he owned the Vanquish, the DB9, and he had owned a Jaguar XK, all of which she'd inherited. She also now apparently owned this huge Victorian mansion house and an acre of land around it, plus £950,000. She'd probably never have to work again, a shame, she'd have loved to have driven to her museum in the new Aston...

She slammed the car door shut and opened the gate slowly. OK, so the house needed a little bit of work. OK, a lot of work... But with 950 grand she could easily afford it, and it was a beautiful house. Ivy climbing up the deep red brick walls and creeping slowly over the window sills, a beautiful balcony on the second story and immediately dubbed the room that led onto it as hers, a dark green domed tower on the far left of the huge driveway. The whole house was something out of an Austin novel, Northanger Abbey or somewhere. It was enough to house a family of 20... And it was all hers. She grinned slowly letting it sink in. Freedom.  
"So," the estate agent said tucking her red hair behind her ear and looking over her shades, which was ironic seeing as she was dressed totally in black in one of the warmest times of the year yet she was still shielding her eyes. 'As you can see, it's got a bit of work to it..."  
"A bit?" Cara asked amused. A bit was a bit of an understatement... The estate agent grinned sheepishly.  
"Well..."  
"Don't worry about it." Alexia laughed. "It's not important." She looked back to the house, "It's perfect." Her red haired companion grinned, smelling a sale, even though it was hers anyway.  
"Let me show you around..." They walked in and Cara gasped. It was even better on the inside, a grand foyer with a dual staircase winding up towards two separate wings of the upstairs, carpeted in faded red. The banisters looked to be brass, but they were so dusty it was difficult to tell. The huge chandelier above her would be the hardest thing to repair and restore, but she wanted too. It would be beautiful...  
"Through here..." The estate agent said opening a door. "Is the drawing room..."

To look around the house took a good 3 hours and she didn't even enter half the bedrooms on the second and third floor. It was fantastic.  
"So, I take it you want to keep it?" The estate agent asked grinning. Cara nodded.  
"Definitely." She said. "Thank you." A fair few papers exchanged hands and signatures were signed, and hands were shaken.  
"I'll be back in the morning to finalise the details." The woman said perkily. This house had been on and off the market for years, bringing their statistics down when the old man wanted to sell it. She couldn't be gladder to see it go. Cara was happy also. For the first time, she owned property that was at the very least liveable in.

She showed the estate agent out of her new home before shutting the somewhat-sticking door, clicking the more than a little rusty lock, and grinning broadly. She span around and leant up against the door, gazing up at the beautiful ceiling.  
"...Home?" She whispered to herself, her smile growing broader. There had never been a place that she could truly call home before... She stood up properly and span in circles gazing up at the chandelier, giggling slightly before she realised how hungry she was.

She trudged into where the huge kitchen was, it was one of 2 buildings in the whole house that had been reinvented enough to be suitable for a modern house. Inside she found a cheesecake, and she grabbed a slightly dusty fork, washed it thoroughly, and sat down and the old oak table with 3 pronged candelabras before tucking in eagerly, eyes lingering on the beautiful old artwork that decorated about the house. She raised the fork and took another bite... When she heard scratching.

She jumped up slightly eyes scanning the skirting boards, her skin on edge. She couldn't stand rats... The estate agent had sworn down, sounding somewhat sceptical of her sanity, that the house had been surveyed for rodents, insects, structural damage and damp and, miraculously, none of the above had been found. Definitely not rodents. But there was the scratching again, louder than before. She blinked and frowned slowly. It wasn't a rat scratching, it was... stronger than that. It was louder than that and it was heavier, and not as rapid. It was lethargic, slow, weary. Then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped.

She frowned again, ears straining to hear it. Maybe she had another ear infection, and was loosing it at the same time. Well, wouldn't be the first time...  
"Okay." She said to herself, wondering if there was something off with the cheesecake. It looked all right... She sniffed it lightly. It smelled all right. And it sure as heck tasted all right. And the refrigerator was working perfectly... She shuddered. "Time for bed. Good night's sleep. Overworked. Long day. Over excited." She pushed the chair back, the legs scraping lightly against the floor and putting her on edge. "Okay. Calm down. I need just to relax." She stood up and picked up a plastic bag that contained her overnight stuff and headed up stairs.

Once in her room she moved swiftly into the en suite bathroom and showered, the second of 3 rooms that had been refurbished, and dried her hair. As she turned the hair dryer off and climbed into bed, she heard something. The scratching again. She shuddered, shaking her head. She was loosing it...  
"...Help." She half screamed and span around. She'd heard it, it was almost silent, weak, the sound of someone half dead. But she HAD heard it.

"W-W-Who's there?" She said shuddering. She sounded stupid, standing in a bathrobe and slippers in the middle of a bathroom talking to nothing. But she had heard it... For a while all was silent. So she went to bed, shaking slightly. Just as she settled down in bed and closed her eyes, she heard something else.

"...Help...Me..."


	3. Chapter 3 Questions And Queries

When her radio alarm went off at seven am the next morning Cara all but leapt out of bed. She hadn't slept at all throughout the night, scratches and moanings starting up every time she closed her eyes, although they didn't trouble her so much when she was awake and terrified. She stumbled groggily down the stairs, looking over her shoulder at regular intervals, although she knew no-one would be there.

She settled down at the kitchen table and poured herself some Rice Krispies and a cup of tea and sat cradling the two of them munching and drinking slowly. 'What... Was that? That noise, that moaning... I could have sworn it was asking for help...' Her scientific mind went through all the logical theories. 'The house is settling... It's had about 200 years to do that. It's the wind... It was a perfect night last night. I was imagining it... I'm not quite that insane yet... I don't think...'

She jumped when the door went, sending her empty bowl clattering to the floor. She sat still for a moment, chest heaving before she realised how stupid she was being. 'I am paranoid!' The door went again and she stood up shakily and walked to it confused. Who was coming to her new house? A friend of her uncles' maybe? Unlikely, the family had cast him out as they had cast her out because she refused to believe those stupid legends... The bell this time and she was jolted out of her thoughts, opening the door only to see...

A man there. His eyes were red and filled with agonised pain, pale faced and covered in deep dark bruises. He was in a navy and white suit dirtied with mud and blood, with dank, unhealthy looking black hair. But what was scariest of all was his body. His arms were chained in silver, crossed across his chest and his legs were bound in the same. He couldn't move. Underneath all the chains she could see his beautiful pale skin was withering and burning away, she could see and hear it hissing slightly. There were large wooden stakes stabbed through his shoulders, hands, thighs and feet and he was screaming in pain. His fingers scraped and scratched at some unseen barrier between them, slow and lethargic.  
"Help... Me." He whispered, screeching slightly. "Mercy! Save me!" Cara screamed and staggered back her hands over her mouth. Bile rose to her throat and she began hyperventilating. 'Oh my God, oh y God, oh my God!'

"Hey. I know I'm ugly but come on, it's not that bad." Cara blinked on reaction and the man was gone and the estate agent was standing there, once again looking at her as if she was a lunatic. Cara's chest heaved more as her eyes darted around, expecting to see blood stains on the wall or zombies dragging themselves out of the cupboard under the stairs. Everything was normal. She forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes, opening them again. Everything was still the same...  
"S-Sorry." Cara said shaking her head. "I thought I saw a rat..." The estate woman chuckled.  
"Wow, you really do have issues with the, don't you?" She chuckled before holding up the papers. "Finalisation?"

Cara signed the final paper with a somewhat heavy heart, trying not to think of the term of phrase 'sign away your soul'.  
"Is everything OK?" The estate agent, who she now knew was called Emma, said. Cara nodded slightly.  
"Yeah." She smiled weakly. "Everything's fine. Still in shock from the possible rat attack I guess." Emma laughed.  
"I can assure you, this house may be ancient but it's a 100% rat-free zone." Cara smiled and nodded.  
"Trust me that is so reassuring you'll never know." She laughed again and gathered up the papers storing them.  
"Well, that's it." She said. "The house is all yours. Are there any questions?" 'Don't ask. Don't be as so stupid to ask...'  
"Not really." Cara chuckled leaning back in her chair. "Ummm, any reports of theft or break-ins?"  
"Nope. No one bothers, not even the kids. Everyone loves this house, and they all loved your Uncle." Cara smiled.  
"Uncle Hubert was a great man." She agreed. "Umm... Any recommendations from housing authorities on structural work?"  
"No again. The house is sound and solidly built. Although you may have a few cracked roof tiles that would need sorting to prevent leaks."  
"OK. And..." 'Don't do it, you'll embarrass yourself...' "Any reports of hauntings?" 'You... IDIOT.' Emma laughed loudly.  
"No." She chuckled. "Why, are you reporting one?" Cara laughed playing it off.  
"Well, you can't be too careful can you?" She said. "These old houses tend to have histories." Emma shook her head.  
"If you're interested in the history of the house I have a file on it back at the office." She said. "But no gruesome murders or emotional suicides or crimes of passion as far as I know."

"No, creepy voices or ghosts or poltergeists or moaning in the night?"  
"None that I've heard." 'Of course.' Cara thought bitterly. 'They never do. I should have known that from the movies...'  
"Good!" Cara and Emma laughed together as they walked to the door.  
"Well, I hope you have a pleasant time here Ms. Harvey." She said. Cara nodded.  
"It's been nice meeting you." They shook hands and Emma left, not looking back. Alexia turned back around and took a deep breath shakily staring at the doorway as if waiting for the man to appear again. He didn't. "I am officially going crazy." She muttered shaking her head. "I need a shrink... No! I need books."

Uncle Hurbert's library was vast to say the least. Hundreds of thousands of books stacked through bookshelves and around the walls of the circular room. In here, with the door locked, it was so easy to believe that her nervousness and edginess was all unfounded. She settled down at the desk with something she'd found. Old scrolls that when unravelled showed the original plans for the house. She'd been pouring over them for hours excitedly absorbing all the secrets the mansion, her home, had to offer. Most of it was still in perfect dimensions, a couple of rooms had been moved and one of the three drawing rooms had been converted into this library, but other than that it was an exact replica of the house.

Cara settled down and looked over the next sheet, a map of the ground floor. She frowned. There was still one scroll to go, but she'd seen all the floors... Maybe that one was something different. Shaking her head briefly she looked over it, smiling serenely to herself. She was much too lost in her own thoughts to hear any creepy scratchings or moanings or see any visions. It was only when she looked to where the living room was now did she get a mild surprise. There was an extra tunnel and stair case into one of the walls. But she hadn't seen any extra doors from the living room...  
"A priest hole..." She whispered before grinning excitedly. "Oh wow..." She gathered the scrolls up rapidly and storing them safely in a desk drawer before rushing to leave the room before stopping. She glanced back and saw an old gas lamp before smiling childishly to herself. She walked back and picked it up, finding some old matches and lighting it. "If a job's worth doing it's worth doing properly." She said before going down two flights of stairs and into the living room. Following the map she found a wall where a large tapestry hung and, pulling it back slowly, came face to face with a wooden door. She smiled. "Time to investigate." She pulled the door handle, listening to the slight creak as it swung open.


	4. Chapter 4 Scars Of The Past

"Wooooow...." Cara whispered. It was a priest hole, and looked as creepy and uninviting, but as safe as it must have looked when it was built. As she walked down a slightly scared but mainly excited shiver went through her. She wondered how many people had walked here, soldiers or men of the church who wanted to hide, had children lived here once and found this, hid here while somewhat amused and annoyed parents searched for them... She remembered a book she'd read once when a father had kidnapped his child and had hid it in a priest hole in an attempt to blackmail his wife. The diaries of Ann Frank... She slipped slightly on the damp stone steps and tumbled a little, grabbing onto the wall to keep herself upright. Her lamp went tumbling to the floor and went out plunging her into darkness and she sighed. "I should have known that would happen..." A cold draft blew through the tunnel. She shuddered again and took her phone put, activating the torch light on it. "And then there was light." She joked trying to keep her spirits up before continuing walking.

At the end of the tunnel she sighed. Nothing had happened, nothing except grazing her arm on the wall and nearly falling down the steps but she was alive. She'd half expected them all to crumble beneath her and send her through a portal to hell with the crazy things that had been happening so far in this house. With a startling jolt she realised that all the visions, scratchings, callings, it had all happened within only twenty four hours. 'OK. Stop thinking about that.' She thought as the darkened corridor suddenly took on a whole different, much more sinister meaning. She wished she hadn't been so stupid and adventurous, and got a proper torch...

The corridor came to an abrupt end in front of her as she saw a door. She blinked. This hadn't been on the original designs... And the corridor had ended a lot earlier than it was meant too. She frowned slowly. What was this? Why would someone just plant a door in the middle of a priest hole. It was stupid. She slowly shone the torch all over the door. There weren't any markings on it, just a blank door. But it was heavy wood, it looked like it weighed a ton. Oak, or maple maybe, almost impossible to move. The lock was a heavy intricately woven black metal and a bolt, covered with a heavy duty padlock on their, rusted a fair bit from age but still as strong as it ever was. 'It's hiding something...' She realised slowly. 'That's the only reason why anyone would plant such a strong door here.' As her torch glanced across the bottom of the door frame she stopped and knelt down slowly. There was something on the wood...

She rubbed her hand over the dust that had accumulated and was met with thick grooves carved deeply into the wood. It was a triangle, with a line striking through it about half way horizontally and on a slight slope. On one end of the line there was a circle. The symbol as a whole was tiny, about the size of her thumb lengthways and height wise and was put right in the lower right hand corner of the thickset door frame. It was no symbol she recognised, no cult like insignia, no free mason all-seeing eye. 'I've been reading far too much Dan Brown...' She realised making a face. 'Well, at least I don't believe in it.' She stood up slowly and closed her eyes. That... Was weird. Some stupid kid probably broke in and came down here, making his own little mark. Similar to 'I woz ere '09 ' or something similar. Kids were evil. Her poor uncle who was ridden to a wheel chair and they still probably terrified him in his sleep by breaking in here. She shook her head and reached out holding the padlock lightly. That wouldn't just tug free. She let it drop from her hand and instead took a hold of the handle of the bolt intending to give it a rattle... And she gasped. Her hand scalded as if being burnt by hot water. She could here a light hissing noise as if her skin was burning right off, and she could smell the scent of charred flesh and her wrists were burning. She felt fingers scrape down her cheek and leave burning trails down them... She yanked herself back and fled up the stairs as she heard an agonised cry scream in her mind and ears, only to hear her making a similar wail as she bolted out into the living room and slammed into the living room the door swinging shut on its own accord.

Once she was out of there she sank onto the sofa and started crying hysterically. She had no idea what had happened, no clue why the first place she'd ever really had seemed to be possessed by some sort of satanic demon. She jumped and screamed when she heard a smashing sound right next to her, before realising that she'd knocked a glass off onto the floor in her hysteria. She looked at her wrists and gave a choked sob and scream. There were burning welts all around them, circling them like chains. She turned her hands over hyperventilating and saw large ripped holes in her palms and panicking ran to the mirror and saw three smeared red marks down her left cheek bone, bright red. She staggered back horrified as she tried to breathe... Her throat was closing up her lungs were burning... Everything was burning, it all hurt so bad...

She fell over the coffee table and cracked her head off the hard wood floor, yelling in pain. She lay there for a moment pain dancing at the back of her head and for a moment she thought she was going to black out, but she didn't somehow. After 15 minutes or so her head started to throb angrily but the world stopped spinning. She sat up slowly groaning and holding her head slightly.  
"Ahhh..." Her eyes glanced shakily at her wrist feeling as though she was going to be sick... There was nothing there. She blinked and rubbed her eyes slowly trying to keep her from thinking she'd loose her mind. She looked again, still nothing. She stared at her palm and walked over to the mirror. There were no marks anywhere on her body, apart from the lump that was forming on her head.  
"I'm going crazy..." She muttered. "I... I need to lie down."


	5. Chapter 5 Night Terrors

She managed to stay awake until 7 o'clock, remembering from some dim and distant first aid class that you shouldn't sleep for several hours after a bad head wound. Although it wasn't really a wound... But she was pretty sure 'wound' covered heavy bumps as well. Then again she probably should have just gone to the hospital but that would have meant leaving the house, something she didn't feel quite comfortable with. Not yet. She wasn't sure it wouldn't just disappear if she left it.

She spent the day trying to rationalise what had happened, trying to explain it. However the results of her mental calculations were inconclusive and so, with a heavy heart, a heavy head and a hot water bottle she trudged up to her new room and lay down. She felt groggy and slightly dizzy a result no doubt from a combination of hysterical fear and the stress of the previous few days. It took her no time at all to get to sleep, and she slid deep into unconsciousness, into the kind of slumber where if you stay still when you awake you will feel utterly refreshed and revitalised, ready to start the next day. However, if you moved you would find yourself tossed into a world of nightmares, and, unfortunately for her, the seemingly inexhaustible bad luck that had followed her all day strayed into her dreams.

_"Murderer..." The man who's name she did not know, who had her back to her, hissed advancing towards the vampyre. Said creature got a look of fear in its eyes.  
"I-It was an accident..."  
"MUDERER!" He grabbed a stake that his comrade had dropped raising it above his head._

**FLASH**

_"What is your name demon?" The vampyre did not speak. "ANSWER ME!" The man struck him with the stake causing the vampyre to yell. He panted heavily in pain before looking up with dull red eyes. "I will give you a fate worse than death."_

**FLASH**

_"NO! NO, DO NOT!" Once again the man smirked evilly. "Do not do this! It was an accident!"  
"You will pay."  
"NO!" The vampyre begged and pleaded for mercy, and the mans grin did not shift. Others returned with a wooden coffin and 5 stakes._

**FLASH**

_Vampyre screamed in torment as man hammered a stake into each shoulder and thigh, then one into his hands that were pinned over his head and the final one, that he had hit the vampyre with, into his feet, pinning him into the coffin. There was too much pain for the vampyre to cry, but still venom fell from his eyes in excruciating pain. He could only shriek as they put the coffin lid on, and the earth was parted, the casket was lowered and the earth closed over it again.  
"Die." Man whispered. "Actually, do not. Live for eternity in agony." He took a torch, and set it to the earth making the freshly shifted ground set alight, sealing the ritual._

She was there, all the time watching. Watching, or trying to stop it. Screaming at the men there, slapping them punching them. She didn't know why, part of her deep down laughed at the creatures pain, burned with the desire to join in, to attack a demon so evil... But another much stronger part of her called for justice, that this was wrong. Nothing, no matter what it may or may not be deserved such treatment. So she fought for him, for the man known as Vincent Valentine, and even though it did nothing she battled on, when he was buried digging at the earth with her hands until her fingers bled, tears streaming from her eyes stemming from feelings of anger and uselessness... She jumped up furious and turned to the man who had done this, who had committed this atrocious act and drew her fist back to slam it into his laughing face...

She froze. It was like looking into a photograph of someone she knew, a family member, but couldn't place. The eyes... The eyes were just like hers. Hazel, blue green and brown with a dash of silver through the right side of the iris... He looked eerily like her father... Like herself. Then she was plunging backwards, chains enclosing around her. She screamed in fright trying to escape, battle for her life but the manacles dragged her deeper. She passed through layers and layers of soil and earth, into molten fire where tortured souls and monsters screamed at her and clawed, held back by their own bindings. She turned her head to the side...  
And he was there. The vision from before, the man in her hall. Bloodstained, torn, battered and broken. Now she could see. It was the vampyre from before, the one who had been imprisoned... His eyes were closed and there were three blood stained finger streaks across his cheekbone, exactly where hers had been before. Then his eyes opened and stared at her, glowing blood red tearing her apart from the inside sending agony shooting through her. His mouth opened wide, screaming at her and she closed her eyes tightly in anticipation, waiting for his attack. But from that wide pained mouth came only soft, hoarsely spoken words.  
"Help... Me... Mer...Cy...Mercy..." Then just as she opened her eyes it screamed. "MERCY!" The coffin came to a stop suddenly in a room she'd never seen but she knew immediately. In front of her was a huge version of the tiny symbol that had been on the door frame... It was the room behind the door. Leaning against the wall was a rusted spade, that was calling to her in the same way the vampyre had. "Save me... Help me... Mercy..."  
She shot awake trembling all over and panting heavily. A light sheen of sweat covered her skin and she curled up on herself pressing her forehead into her knees, trying to stop the trembling. She'd never been so scared in all her life... But now she knew what she needed to do. If she didn't this house and whatever spirit resided her would ever leave her alone. She shuddered at the thought but reached for her dressing gown pulling it on. She needed to get in that room, and dig. She'd probably find nothing, but if she didn't then she could rest easy and this poltergeist could stop tormenting her. If she did find something then she could call the police and have the vampyre avenged. She slid into her slippers as well before picking up her heavy duty torch. She'd learnt her lesson, no more romanticism. Before walking slowly from the room in the dead of night to go and dig up a member of the un-dead. 'I must be absolutely insane...'


	6. Chapter 6 Amateur Archaeology

Ladies and Jelly Beans, Chapter 6 shall commence shortly! But before I go on I must gratuitously thank my number one, and only, fan. JiLLiBeanz, from myself, from Vincent, and from the people of fanfiction who do not yet know of the marvels of this story which your reviews alone have inspired, thankyou. *Bows deeply, applause sounds* Now that is done, on to the last intro part!

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She was a lot more cautious as she descended down the stairs this time, using a proper torch and tentatively feeling her way along the slippery stone and kept her back pressed firmly against the wall. Her arm still stung from the graze she got before. Her foot caught a cracked bit of stone on one and crumbled underneath her, and she yelped, twisting her ankle a little but she carried on being even more cautious.

She'd picked up another spade, just in case and was glad she did. It helped her swelling ankle support her over the uneven surface. She reached the solid door after about 5 minutes of hobbling, and stared at it as if half expecting it to disappear in a puff of smoke. With everything else that had happened recently she wouldn't be surprised. Once she was sure it was as firm and stubborn as it had been before she bent down slowly, wincing, to study the carving. She tried pushing it, pulling it, turning it, rubbing it in the hopes it would open the door. But no such luck.  
"Course." She muttered a little annoyed and feeling a little foolish. "That sort of stuff only happens in the movies."

Then she remembered the padlock and, heaving the spade up, smashed it down on the join. The iron shuddered and groaned and she grinned. She raised it again and brought it down, and again, over and over until the padlock was wailing with the strain. The fifth strike saw the ancient rusted metal snap and with a tinkle the shattered metal hit the earth. She heaved a couple of breaths, leaning on the spade a little. Her ankle throbbed. However she pushed herself upright and shoved against the door, her eyes closing in the effort to heave it. It wouldn't budge.  
Things weren't going to plan she realised as after 20 minutes she still couldn't shift the huge thing. She growled.  
"Damn it!" She punched the wood angrily staring at the frame, when she saw it slide open perhaps half a centimetre then slam shut again. She blinked and pushed it again. The same thing happened. Picking up the spade she shoved the door and slid the blade in the gap. It held and she grinned, before pushing against the handle of the spade. Slowly, inch by inch, she levered the door open until it was wide enough that she could slip though it. Before it slammed closed she jammed the spade in sideways, keeping it open. It held to which she was grateful, and she proceeded. And gasped. She was in the cellar, in the room where her night terror had taken her. Her blood ran cold for a minute as did her skin, the room was freezing and her breath came out in small puffs of smoke. She looked around, noticing with horrifying clarity that not even a spiders web was in there. Not even insects could break into, or escape from the room.

What horrified her more however, was the huge rusted spade that was leaning against the wall. It was just as she'd seen. And the large patch of charred Earth, undisturbed since when it was first burnt sealing the vampyre inside. She shuddered but walked over, her footsteps echoing off the frozen ground and icy walls, and she hissed when she picked up the ice cold metal, feeling her skin burn at the contact. But still she dragged it over and started digging.

It was silent except for her shovelling, and that was scarring her. Shouldn't he be shouting or groaning by now?  
"Don't be dead." She whispered as she dug through the six foot line. "Don't give up. Please." She didn't know what she was saying, she felt ridiculous. He was long dead, what was pestering her was his spirit longing to remain at rest. Yet still she carried on whispering as she fast approached the six and a half foot line. By now she couldn't even reach the rim of the hole let alone climb out, her ankle was throbbing as was her arms and back. She brushed hair and a thin sheen of sweat off her face, smearing her cheeks with mud. She was exhausted, and starting to doubt her own sanity. She shovelled another load. 'One more foot. If, after that nothing, then I give.' Quite how she was going to get out she didn't know, but before she could dwell on it further there was a rough scraping sound. She froze. She'd hit rocks and rubble along the way, but this sound had been different... This had been wooden.

Almost as soon as she'd scraped the casket she felt scratchings.  
"Help me..." The voice whispered. "Mercy! Mercy please!" She got to work, clearing the rubble and dirt, unable to believe this was happening.  
"It's OK!" She called. "It's OK I'm here to get you out!" She could soon feel the edges of the coffin and could feel the grain of the wood that made it. The scrapings were louder.  
"Help me!" The voice was desperate, almost crying. "Please! I beg of you please help me!" She thought she heard a choked sob at some point. The wood had rotted and was weak, but frozen and brittle so it could cause injuries to both parties if she wasn't careful. "Get me out of here please!"  
"Calm down!" She called gently. "It's OK. I'm going to get you out, but I need you to calm down first." He didn't and she sighed, there wasn't enough room to prise the lid off...

Once again the spade came to the rescue. She smashed the corner and the wood predictably splintered but she heard no yells of pain so she proceeded with tearing the lid of chunk by chunk. The now dim torch shone in slowly as she revealed the form of the man who had haunted her the past few days. It was worse than the images, he was hurt so badly. The stakes had splintered, and his skin healed around them embedding shards of deadly wood in him that tore his muscles every time he moved, the skin on his wrists and ankles was almost blackened and one of his shoulders looked dislocated. She gasped.  
"Oh my God..." She clambered in and snapped the stakes that held him in until she could remove them properly. She didn't ask if he was OK. The answer was obvious. Instead, through some minor miracle she managed to haul him out of the coffin. He slumped against her heavily, to weak with pain and hunger to support his own weight. Again somehow she managed to heave herself and him out of the whole after some more digging, and once there draped his arm over her shoulder and helped him get upstairs.  
"Thank you." He murmured as she supported him when he slipped and nearly fell back down the stairs. She carried on half dragging half carrying him.  
"No problem.' She said gently, finally getting him out into the living room. She pulled him over to a sofa and laid him down gently. "I'm going to go get a first aid kit." She said. "Hold on."  
"Wait..." He whispered grabbing her arm. She turned to him. "D-Don't..." He didn't know how to finish and she smiled sadly, kneeling down by him.  
"I'm going, across the room to that cabinet." She pointed. "You can watch me all the way." She sighed, surveying his wounds once again. This was going to hurt him terribly if he were awake... "Why don't you have some rest while I fix you up?" He stared at her, as if trying to evaluate if she were telling the truth, reading her mind before he'd let her go. His hand reluctantly dropped from her wrist, slipping and hanging limply.  
"I can't sleep." He mumbled tensing as if anticipating the pain. "Haven't eaten in so long... What year are you?" Cara studied him then as if making a very difficult decision, whether to trust him or not.  
"Year 2009." She said before rolling her left sleeve up to the middle of her biceps and holding the crook of her elbow out. "Drink, then." He stared, horrified and repulsed but also desperately and longingly.

"Year 2009?!" He said horrified. B-But that's over...300 years..." She nodded.  
"It is." She agreed. "We can talk more later, when you are rested and well. Please, drink." He turned his head away slightly.  
"I can't..." He whispered. "It'll hurt..."  
"Don't worry." Cara said. "Don't worry about me, OK? It's going to be awfully painful for you if you are awake through this, you've got an awful lot of nasty wounds. Just take what you need to sleep, so you can at least not have to put up with the pain of the procedures." He looked disgusted with himself but before she could tempt him again he had all but fallen on her, tearing into the skin in a none to gentle way that made her flinch in pain and fight her every instinct not to recoil and pull away. He needed this desperately, she could see that in his face, how ill his incarceration had made him, and she could feel it from the sheer desperation he was sucking her blood, gulping it down. She fought against her light-headedness gripping her knee slightly and 5 minutes later he'd stopped. She slowly regained her hold on her senses and the world, downing a glass of water to replenish her fluids, and when she glanced over at him he was staring at her with weary eyes, looking extremely vulnerable, in pain and alone, but also pathetically grateful. It made her breath hitch to see such a proud creature of a race she had spent half her teenage years fighting for their rights, such a regal figure so torn and beaten and harmed.  
"Thank you." He murmured again as his eyes slid closed. She realised with horror that if he had been unable to sleep due to huger for the past 300 years he would have been wide awake, unable to rest and only able to hear the comings and goings of people above him, trying to reach out for them to help him as he had with her, and 300 years of pure rejection every time, and having to be awake through every single minute.  
"It's not a problem." She assured, although he had already drifted off into a deep, heavy sleep. The sun had begun rising, so she closed the thick heavy curtains to prevent any more harm coming to him, then stood up shakily and got the first aid kit. Clean up job had begun.


	7. Chapter 7 The Lost Symbol

A/N  
Hey there readers.

Sorry this has taken a while, the next one will too, but I'm going through a rough patch at the moment. My grandmother who lives with me and is more a second mother is really ill and I won't go into details but it's hard fitting this story in and around everything that's happening.

Thanks and dedications once again to JiLLiBeanz for her patience and preservance but also to ipoked-kiraandedward-andlived and to rikus angel who have all been really supportive through my own problems. Thanks guys, best friends ever :)

Dedications also to Greenday, best band in the world ever. This chapter was written listening to Welcome To Paradise, bril song, inspirational, all that jaz.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all, even if it is belated. Hope santa got you everything you wanted ;)

On with the show.

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It took nearly 6 hours to patch up the vampire that was all but comatosed on her sofa but once she was done she leant back on her heels, having previously been crouched on the floor, and fought exhaustion back tooth and nail. What she needed now, more than anything was to think. Everything that had happened since she'd arrived in this house, hauntings, apparitions, poltergeist activity, digging a 300 year old vampire from her cellar... A slight hysterical giggle left her before she buttoned her mouth and stood up, legs screaming in protest, muscles clamping. She trudged to the kitchen and grabbed a wine glass, pouring her self a singular glass of white wine before re-corking it and storing it once again.

Sipping slowly she ransacked, re-ordered and scrutinised all the information she had now. She'd need to ask the vampire, she refused to call him Vincent that was too much of a coincidence, to corroborate some of her information but from what she could tell... She knew nothing about what was going on. She instead mused back to her times at university, from the age of 12 where she'd joined the VR youth group. Vampire Rights, something that had been all but none existent in her time and a long while before. She'd joined the group after a history project in her second year of secondary school. The telling of how vampires had slowly become more and more inhabited on the planet, how they were now more civilised, were able to walk among them in daylight, how they were civilised and educated... Yet although it was illegal for them to be slaughtered it was also illegal for them to get jobs, go into the education system, participate in any sort of goods transfer, vote...

When she was 17 there was a motion passed, vampires now had the same rights as humans. She'd felt proud when that had happened... Like she'd really managed to change the world. All the time there was one being horrifically tortured under her uncles house... She shuddered and took another sip of wine, forcing herself to leave those memories. Instead, she had to think of what to do now. She doubted he was in any state to make it on his own for a while. That wasn't a problem so much, this house was big enough to hold 20 of each of their kind, however all vampires had to have a valid form of UK citizenship identification, birth certificate and up to date passport and work permit. Which was going to be difficult, seeing as they weren't all to big on ID cards back in the 1700s. She rubbed the back of her neck as she processed a problem big enough to occupy her thoughts and keep her from digressing into the earlier events.

She stood up slowly, draining the glass and placing it in the sink to wash up later, and started walking towards her uncles library. She needed to do research, to see what she could find out about where to get papers for this guy. She didn't know why she had this strange compulsion to help him, but a flash of his face in the moments after he'd drank from her reminded her why it was necessary, even if she didn't know why her. Slumping into a chair at the large desk in the library she pulled the book records to her and started looking through, for anything that might help. When suddenly, she spotted something on the dark blue stained leather with the night sky painted on in silver, right in the corner of the decorations was a constellation of about 8 stars that made a triangle with a line through it about and on one end of the line there was a circle... She stared. No. It wasn't possible... But before she knew it she was scanning through the library archives and jumping to her feet racing and grabbing all the books on symbolism she could carry. Dropping down again she began scanning through them, her heart thumping, looking for anything that mentioned this symbol that was all over her house. If there was another vampire incased in a group of bookshelves then she was getting out of this house as soon as possible...

She wasn't making any headway after nearly 5 hours of reading. The pile of books was steadily moving from the right hand side of her to the left as she sped through them, trying to pick up any information, anything at all...Eventually she reached what looked like the oldest book in the library that hadn't been touched in years. She opened it, wincing as the spine creaked and threatened to brake, looked at the page and groaned. Old English. This was going to be a nightmare... She started looking through, her already weary head getting more and more confused as she tried to decipher the old language. If she had been wide awake and not suffering from blood loss this wouldn't have been a problem, she'd have sped through it. But she wasn't awake and she was suffering from blood loss, and felt as if she were going to pass out at any moment. Just when she was about to give up, to shut the damned book and declare herself wiped when she saw it. The book slumped open to the middle, as aged books had a tendency to do, and there was a diagram of the symbol that was littered all over her property. It was drawn in pencil, as the whole of this book was hand written and bound and she stared in awe at the faded line work. She'd found it. She scanned underneath, reading the wording in the caption.  
This symbol found across the world is one of many marks recognisable to a certain, terrifying race of people. Their superhuman strengths and paranormal powers make them feared by all those throughout the lands. Hired guns and mercenaries, they kill for any amount of money, and are mortal enemies of everything living and dead. They have several symbols associated with them, this one of the lesser know ones. Members of the organisation have code names when they enter, usually to do with fighting or nature. In all the organisation known as the...

She turned the page expectantly, heart hammering in her chest. They sounded like Vampyres, could vampyres have owned this house before her uncle and buried one of their own or...

The symbol of the all seeing eye is usually indicative of masonic activities or related in the times of ancient Egypt...

She blinked and frowned turning back a page. Then forward. Then back. It had cut off, the article she was reading had gone... She growled.  
"What the hell?!" She muttered to herself. Then she saw it. 5 very thin papery strips right between the two pages, so close you almost wouldn't see them... Pages had been taken from this book, pages that contained the information she needed to start working out what this whole sodding thing meant. She gulped. This was getting too much to be coincidence... This was getting scary.

Had they been taken out recently? No. This book hadn't been touched in years, that much was obvious due to the layers of dust even inside the pages. It hadn't been touched probably before even her uncle's time. She sat down slowly. Someone was damaging books that included information she needed, vampires were buried in her house and secret symbols were written all over the place. It was like some sort of crazy fantasy novel and someone was playing a sick joke... She sighed and shook her head. She needed Greenday, another glass of wine and a long sleep.

"Hello?" The voice was panicky and loud, terrified. She sighed. She hadn't expected the poor sod to wake up for a while yet. She stood up. Seemed the day wasn't quite over yet.


	8. Chapter 8 Meet The Traitors

A/N:  
Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, the world's been going just a little bit crazy down at this end. But here it is, the long awaited chapter! Thanks to JiLLiBeanz, my own two kittens kept me from writing a reply to your review! So sorry!

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"It's alright!" She called as she went down the stairs yawning. Trudging down stairs she rubbed sleep from her eyes and jumped the last couple of steps landing silent and cat-like on the carpet runner in the hall. She straightened and walked towards the living room just as there was a thump and a yelp. She frowned. [Some thing's wrong... Very wrong...] She didn't realise she was running until she skidded to a halt in the hall. She stared at the vampyre on the floor and blinked. "What are you doing?" She was nearly laughing.  
"I..." He sighed, realising he must look like a bit of an idiot. "I thought I heard something." Cara chuckled and went over helping him up.  
"Probably only me, just went for a little wander around the house." She smiled getting him back on the couch. "As you tried to do so it seems." He smiled apologetically.  
"Sorry. Guess I'm a bit paranoid." Cara pulled up a chair and sat by him.  
"I would be too." She assured. "After being trapped in a coffin underground for neigh on 300 years." He nodded.  
"I'm Vincent, by the way." He said holding her hand out. Cara gulped. 'OK. Visions are pretty accurate.'  
"I'm Cara." She smiled taking it and shaking. "It's a pleasure Mr. Vincent." He smiled weakly and closed his eyes again. Just as he did they snapped open and Cara span round. They'd both heard something that time.  
"There's someone in the house." He whispered, and she could hear his fear. She nodded, letting his hand go gently.  
"Don't move." She whispered before grabbing a fire poker from the hearth side. She tested its weight and balance and, satisfied, went out to investigate what the hell was going on in her home now.

The lights were all off when she stepped out. They were on when she'd come down, she'd left them on for Vincent just in case... So someone or something had turned them off... She frowned. She was being stupid. The events of the last couple of days had reduced her to a nervous wreck... Light flashed and a loud crack sounded, and she yelled jumping slightly. Staring down the hall she saw the door was swinging open, the wind banging it against it's frame. She growled and walked over, on high alert to slam the door shut.  
"Dramatics." She sneered. "I should have guessed, only you fools would have gone to all this damned trouble. Show yourselves!" She locked the door to keep the rain out and span around quickly as if anticipating an attack. No one was there. She growled again. "I'm starting to get annoy-"  
"Ahh!" She was already running back to the room where Vincent was resting, her senses on high alert. 'What the HELL are they doing?'

She stumbled in there, ready to rip heads when she saw... Exactly what she was expecting. Sort of. Her parents stood over Vincent, glaring down at him like he was some sort of disgusting smell under there upturned noses. Cara growled and stormed over.  
"What are you doing here?" She said making no attempt to disguise her hatred for the man and woman in front of her. They turned around and the woman broke into a very wide, very false smile.  
"Cara! Baby!" She walked over as if to hug her, then thought better of it. "We came to see you in your new house!" Cara sneered.  
"Mother." She said curtly folding her arms across her chest, the poker still gripped tightly in her hand. "Father. I don't remember inviting you." The man stepped forward.  
"We let ourselves in." He said, upper lip curling. A warning.  
"I noticed." Was her reply, cold and calculated. "Now if you'd like to wait here while I call the police I'd be very grateful..." Her mother gasped falsely. Everything about the woman was false, platinum blond hair, two inches of make up, red heels, blue short dress... She was more like a doll than anything.  
"You'd call the police on your own parents?" She said faking upset. Cara rolled her eyes.  
"No, off course not." She said. "I can't. Uncle Hubert's dead. However, on my mother and father? Yes. Yes I would." Her father rolled his eyes.  
"We come to see how you're settling in and you..."  
"I don't remember ever asking for your concern." Came the sharp reply. "Nope. Not once." The father growled.  
"Ungrateful little..."  
"Who's your friend dear?" The mother asked pointing to a worried but very much confused Vincent. Cara watched their expressions carefully and frowned slightly. She knew every facet of her parents personality, but this curiosity into her life was not something she'd yet experienced. And certainly not in her choice of company.  
"Why are you so interested?" She retorted. Something was wrong here... Her father shrugged.  
"You're our only daughter, we have the right to be interested."  
"You lost that right 2 years ago." She said coolly but her frown deepened. She shrugged off handedly. "He's a neighbour. Why?"  
"He's sleeping on your sofa." Her father said raising an eyebrow. The classic 'I don't believe you now tell the damned truth' pose. But she had no intention of any such thing. Anything her parents were 'interested' in was a reason to keep those cards as close to her chest as possible.  
"I never said he was a good neighbour." She shrugged. "He was at my house warming party, got drunk, buried his keys somewhere in the garden and had to stay the night." This time both of her parents frowned.  
"We don't like it when you keep things from us Cara. It's not nice." Her father said stepping forward almost menacingly. She held her ground. 'I'm no longer under your control.'  
"Get out." She said coldly, her own warning being shifting the hand with the poker ever so slightly. "Now."  
"What?" Her father growled. "How dare you..."  
"This is not YOUR house." She said menacingly stepping dangerously close. "In fact, I do believe this is MY house. You've broken into my house, crashed the aftermath of my party, terrorised my friends and have the audacity to treat me like a child."  
"This house was left..."  
"To me." She finished darkly. "In fact, I do believe I am the sole inheritor of uncle Hubert's substantial fortune. I don't believe he left you anything, although I can see why. So you are trespassing on my property, so I suggest you leave before I really do call the police." Her tone was that of authority and her parents knew it. Her father growled softly and her mother let out a choked sob but both turned.  
"We'll see ourselves out." Her father said a dark undertone to his voice.  
"Oh no. You've already damaged my door once." Cara followed them and unlocked and opened the front door, tapping her foot impatiently. "Besides, I want the pleasure of chucking you out myself." A sly grin spread across her face as her parents glared. As her parents left the house, her father paused.  
"I shouldn't let your guest outstay his welcome." He said. "They tend to cause more trouble than they're worth. Just a quick word of... Advice." It was Cara's turn to growl. She didn't mistake her fathers warning and commanding tone.  
"If and when I want your opinion." She said coldly. "And that's a big if, I'll ask you to fill out the necessary forms." Her father smirked and walked back to his carriage getting in.  
"Goodbye darling!" Her mother said leaning out of the window. "We'll come again soon!"  
"Please call before you do." Cara said audibly. "So I can call pest control." She turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her, taking a deep breath to calm her anger.  
"Why are you so interested in Vincent..." She wondered very quietly to herself. "Why are you so interested in me all of a sudden?"


	9. Chapter 9 Kitchen Sink Dramas

Hey guys. Sorry it's taken so long, but my grandmother who was ill passed away and so understandably my muse has been greiving along with the rest of me. This chapter was a bit of a slog to write, but I've got to start getting back to normal and I figured that this would be a good way to start. Thanks to the usual people, you know who you are, but also this time to Tallz Is De Lanste Ster for their review and understanding nature. , here's the next chapter. A nice little fluffy filler, because the next one is gonna have plenty of action and a little bit of violence. So be patient and you shall be rewarded with bonding angsty-ness. Have fun folks.

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Vincent frowned and watched from the sofa as Alexia prepared the dinner. She rubbed her eyes on her sleeves as the onion juices began to take effect, but didn't stop cutting. Despite the pain she focused on her task... He sat up slowly and went over wincing slightly. Moving still hurt despite his fast healing  
"Hi." He said leaning against the work surface. She turned to him, wiping her eyes again.  
"Hi." She said in return before turning back. "Sorry, gotta keep focused or I'll cut my fingers off." Vincent grimaced slightly. He doubted he could control himself if she did that... But there were things he wanted to ask.  
"So... We're the year 2009 right?" She didn't answer for a moment, and he thought she hadn't heard him. He went to ask again when he saw her nod.  
"Yes. April 4th 2009." He let out a slow breath.  
"I've been buried down there for 300 years..." He muttered under his breath. Her face grew cold and he stared. 'What's wrong with her...'  
"It's disgusting." She spat. "I don't care if that was common belief at the time. Morals don't change regardless of the century. To hunt down another being like that... I wouldn't expect it off a pack of wild animals!" Vincent stared at her horrified. 'What... What?' He swallowed.  
"This era is very different from my own." He said quietly. Alexia nodded firmly.  
"I should think so." She said coolly. "This time is multi cultural, multi racial society. Vampyres have rights here." She sighed. "So long as they have papers... We're going to have to do something about that." She smiled. "But that can wait til you're stronger and we're able to get in contact with a lawyer. So don't worry about it, OK?" Vincent watched her as she returned to the cooking, somewhat amazed. This girl was so much different from anyone he'd met, she didn't seem to mind the fact he was obviously causing her trouble. That thought made him scowl lightly. He should just get out of her hair as soon as possible, before he brought some serious problems to her doorstep. Someone so generous didn't deserve the kind of mess that followed him around... Lost in his thoughts he didn't notice she was awaiting confirmation of her statement. She shifted slightly and his attention was drawn back to her, and he nodded swiftly.  
"Of course." He murmured, suddenly wanting to change the conversation away from the potential nightmare he was going to cause her. She nodded.  
"Good." She sighed and threw the chopped onions into a pot. "My cooking skills aren't great but you look like you need a home cooked meal. So I'm going to cook my speciality – A stew." There was silence for a moment before Vincent burst out laughing.  
"Sounds great." He nodded smiling weakly. She grinned in return, turning back to her work. He took a deep breath. Time for some more questions. "So... Who were those people earlier?" He asked cautiously, eyeing her reaction as she froze. And sighed.  
"They're my parents." She shrugged. "If you didn't guess."  
"That wasn't quite what I meant." She sighed again at that comment and put the knife down, turning to face him.  
"The bane of my existence." She qualified. 'She really does not get on with her family...' He thought. 'Except this uncle Hubert.'  
"May I make an observational statement?" He asked curiously. Unable to understand why he felt this sudden compulsion to try and unravel all the facets of her personality and her memories. He heard her chuckle and gave a confused look.  
"Sorry." Cara apologised. "It's just I'm not used to the way you speak. Men in this era are not as... Dignified. They tend to be rather crude, it's a refreshing change." He continued to give her a confused look and she shrugged. "For example, no one asks if they can talk any more. They just do. They don't tend to ask if they can do anything at all."  
"...Right..." He changed the subject. "So, is it alright to..." She chuckled again.  
"Sorry, again. Yes, of course."  
"You and your parents, you don't seem to be very close..." Alexia sighed heavily but nodded.  
"They try their very best to make my life a living hell by controlling every aspect of my life. When that fails there's always a good fist." She muttered. "They were more like jailers than parents." She glanced up to his face to see him horrified.  
"They hit you?" She chuckled.  
"I thought that sort of behaviour was commonplace in your time." She said. He shook his head.  
"For discipline sometimes yes, but not for..." He trailed off and she shrugged.  
"Yeah. They did. Wasn't nice but no one noticed and if no one noticed then no one would believe me. So I just left it. But yes, you can see why I hate them."  
He nodded his eyes cold.  
"So if they can't stand you, and you can't stand them, why were they here?" Alexia frowned and looked dead out of the window, her face growing cold once more.  
"I don't know." She growled. "I really don't. But whatever it is, I don't like it. They're never usually interested in me unless they want me to do something. Much less care about my choice of companionship. There interest in you is deeply concerning." She sighed. "They're a constant thorn in my side. I thought I knew everything about them... But the way they acted today confused me completely. And I don't like being confused, especially not like that and especially not by them..." She trailed off to stir the sauce. Inwardly she was furious, and somewhat afraid. The look in her parents eyes when they had seen Vincent, like there was something wrong with his very make up. 'Could they know he was a vampire? No, impossible... How could they? Even if they did why would it matter? They didn't seem to ever be against them – Sure they didn't like my activist movements but were they...' The more she thought about it the more she saw a barely disguised hatred just beneath the mask of acceptance, whenever anything vampyric crossed her path. 'So they don't like them... Still they can't do anything. This isn't an intolerant society. They need to behave themselves...' She shuddered.  
"Are you alright?" She nodded hurriedly, snapping from her thoughts.  
"Yeah, fine." She looked at the meal and nodded. "Can you set the table? Dinner's ready."


	10. Chapter 10 A Parliment Of Ravens

Hi guys. Another update - Just what you always wanted. Here's chapter 10, a little on the creepy side again; last chapter was a bit of a filler so you could all relax into a false sense of security. Hopefully in this chapter you'll get a run of adrenalin. I know I needed it to survive writting it!

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A large circular table held over 50 other people, and sat in the middle of a darkened room. The chairs were high backed and wooden, seemingly very uncomfortable. At each place there was a silver dinner service and a set of silver cutlery and goblet. In the gloom tapestries could be seen hanging from the grey stone walls and pedestals that held bronze bowls where flaming torches would be lit stood proudly in the corners of the room. In all, the room looked like a medieval masonic chamber – Appearances were ridiculously deceptive. The huge double doors opened and the pedestals lit instantly, showering the room in what should have been a warm flickering light. Instead, the flames cast dark menacing shadows across the room and filled the room with a horrible sense of foreboding. A large candelabra lit above the table but did little to warm the room or give it a happier feeling. Instead, if anything, it made it worse.

Through the oaken doors a party of 53 traipsed through. Far from wearing long linen cloaks with heavy hoods, sleeves folded together and ropes for belts, incense orbs and bells and chanting the people who walked into the room wore T-Shirts, jeans and jackets. They ranged from their late twenties to early sixties, and as they all took their seat at the table they chatted about meaningless affairs. The table filled, and once everyone was seated a soft bell was rung bringing silence. Food was brought into the room, a minor banquet, and at the ringing of a second bell everyone delved into their food. Behind the table, at the very back of the room, the largest banner hung. Almost floor to ceiling and in a burst of golds, reds, greens and blues the hand woven tapestry held only a single symbol. A triangle with a line striking through it about half way horizontally and on a slight slope. And on one end of the line there was a circle.

Cara groaned in her sleep weakly. After having finished dinner with Vincent and showing him the unbelievable phenomenon of television, she'd made him up a room, shown him where he could sleep, and dragged herself to bed. However, not even 20 minutes in her blissful unconsciousness did the tenor of her dreams start to change. Darkness seeped over the gentle swirl of colours that had up till then occupied her mind, and she imagined herself to be very cold, an icy wind sweeping through the deepest contours of her mind. Her dream self shuddered.  
Firstly, her mind traversed back to the nightmare that had led her to Vincent, his incarceration. Again it ended with her trying to fight away the man who sealed his fate, but then another wind threw the images away in flecks of black, the picture dissolving into smoke like wisps. Then, she was somewhere else completely... Or rather she was nowhere. Around her was a moving, swirling mass of deep purple and black, malevolent and claustrophobic. Wherever she looked she could see nothing but evil.  
"Vincent?" She called out quietly. She didn't know why she asked for him, surrounded in this ever increasing malice – why she should call for a vampire she barely knew astounded her. However, he already knew so much about her... She called for him again, feeling an overwhelming protectiveness for him but got no reply. Her feet moved of her own accord, taking one step forward... And she froze. A deep, low, snarling sound came from behind her and, terrified, she turned slowly to find its source.

Behind her stood a horrifying monstrosity. It was a creature, almost dog like in appearance, but had... Two heads. Its very skin seemed to ripple and bubble, as if it were being melted, each head had three glowing red eyes that were all trained on her, and each of the five legs had huge elongated claws that were sharpened to a very fine point. The demonic creature seemed to salivate as it watched her, and it stepped towards her baring back its too-tight jowls to revel two very sharp yellow rows of teeth. She turned to run, to find herself face to face with another, this time with... She nearly vomited. Black blood fell from a horrendous wound to its side... One rib cage had been fully torn away. She panicked and turned again, to find another with its lower jaw missing. Wherever she looked these mutilated monsters were there, circling her slowly. She counted 6, each with its own deformity. Never in her life had she felt such a chill of fear as she did when she realised she was surrounded. One snapped its head forward and she jumped back, prompting others to copy. She screamed out, but the noise was silent. They weren't yet close enough to actually catch her, but she realised that the circle was getting tighter and tighter, closer.

Ordinarily each monster had stood at her hip height. Now they seemed to be growing, their heads were no lower than her chest. Looking down she let out another terrified silent scream. The creatures weren't growing. She was being dragged into the darkness that surrounded this dream world, like quick sand drawing her down. As the panic rose within her she tried to pull herself out only serving to be pulled down further; and the grim realisation that there was no escape settled within her. She swallowed, terrified and looked up in time to let out a final scream, the piercing sound echoing around the chasm. As if sound had suddenly returned the creature that had lunged for her started snarling and spitting as it had been unable to before, and she felt the terrific pain as the arm she had risen to defend her face was torn into by thousands of teeth...

In the chamber with the symbolic banner, the food had been consumed and the the wine had been toasted and drank from the goblets. Maids had cleared the empty plates away, leaving the table bare in their wake with only some silver candelabras left on its surface. The meeting had turned abruptly to business, and two of the members sat down, with ashamed faces.  
"So." Said the one who was blatantly the groups leader, the only one dressed in robes fitting to his surroundings. "You tell us that your daughter is harbouring the fugitive vampyre Vincent Valentine?" The platinum blond haired, doll like woman nodded.  
"Yes, my lord. Her disobedience grieves us beyond compare." The brown haired man who was her companion nodded in agreement and 'their lord' sneered.  
"As we have seen so many times before, the youth of today are no longer willing to take up their mantel." He said coldly. "In any case, I already knew this information." The two adults looked up, surprised but not shocked.  
"My lords knowledge renders me amazed." The man said bowing. He was given a wave of the hand in return.  
"I realised that the seal that bound that despicable leech to his cell had been broken." He said coolly, but his voice began to turn almost malevolent. "That inhuman monstrosity that cursed our kind has been resurrected." He spat. "And so I have already arranged appropriate action." He turned to his followers. "My sincerest apologies." He said, sounding utterly remorseless. "But 6 of our 'pets' have been dispatched to clean up this mess. With any luck, there will be no survivors." The adults nodded.  
"We understand." They chanted. "And are grateful."

Cara sat up suddenly as she jerked awake. She paid no heed to the sheen of sweat on her skin, or the exhaustion she felt at still being unable to have a restful sleep. She barely heard her breath echoing around the room... Instead her ears were seeking out the sound of something else. Even with no proof, no evidence, no reason to suspect why she knew, from somewhere deep inside her that there was something in the house. And whatever it was... It wasn't human.


	11. Chapter 11 Run Rabbit Run

A/N: Sorry guys! This chapter is long overdue, I know, but through no fault of my own my laptop where this story is saved died on me, and I couldn't ressurect it until I had a new charger. Fortunately I hadn't lost the work I'd done on this chapter, otherwise it may never have gotten updated. However, A Stitch In Time is now OFF hiatus and back on the road. So enjoy chapter 11, it's been my second favourite to write so far.

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Cara sat up suddenly as she jerked awake. She paid no heed to the sheen of sweat on her skin, or the exhaustion she felt at still being unable to have a restful sleep. She barely heard her breath echoing around the room... Instead her thoughts whirled frantically around in her head, and had she been a more emotional person she may well have been crying. She'd found the damn vampire! Could she not have a single nights sleep with freakish dreams and haunting images… This time of some sort of strange occult gatherings and secret councils in hidden rooms with even scarier traditions and rituals. She felt sick to her stomach, even though a sarcastic voice in the back of her head reminded her she should be thankful she woke up before the sacrifices started. Shakily she stepped out of bed and pulled her dressing gown and slippers on. If she wasn't going to sleep she could do something useful… She could start work on Vincent's identity first of all. Or rather, work on finding a place to start working on his identity…

She sat down at a decrepit and ancient computer and loaded it up.. Uncle Hubert hadn't been entirely trusting of modern technology. Televisions, OK. Fride freezers, fine. Computers, not so much. So she'd have to get this fossil replaced as soon as possible. Her fingers tapped a stacatto rhythm on the computer desk as her machine booted. Hopefully the broadband internet would speed up the monstrocity. It was as she started tapping, username, password, (both of which had been found on a post-it note on the screen) launched the Microsoft Internet browser, typed in the infamous 'Google' adress and started searching that she froze. For some reason, her mind was somewhere else. Specifically downstairs by the kitchen window, which was now smashed. She stood up slowly, senses on high alert. 'How did I know that…' There was no way that she could hear down two flights of stairs and through several solid oak doors. It was impossible… Padding on the carpet. The plush thick carpet that she could barely hear herself walking on. Her footsteps sped up, suddenly making no noise along the wooden floorboards as she sprinted, a shadow dancing almost on air as she followed the now running sounds – She thought she could pick them out.

One, three, five… Six. Six somethings had broken into her house, and they ran on all fours implying some sort of very fast animal. She could hear them sniffing, and growling softly between them, communicating. If she had seen her reflection now, she would have been terrified. Her greeny-blue eyes had narrowed with a silver glint in them, she ran as an assassin would, racing them to a destination that she should not have known but already did. She had the advantage. She was two floors up, and whatever these things were they certainly had problems with stairs. Her hand reached for the brass door knob in front of her and turned it silently, slipping into the pitch black room. She shut the door behind her and turned to the bed.  
"Vincent!" She hissed, and blood red eyes snapped open staring right at her. He said nothing, but she thought she saw a glimpse of panic and fear cross his emotionless expression. And anger… She felt a thrill at his fear, the addrenalin in her coursing more violently. She felt the most ludicrous urge to smirk. "There's something in the house. It's heading here." The panic returned again and Vincent Valentine swung out of bed.

"What?" Alexia held up a hand for silence. They were coming up the second flight of stairs… She ghosted over to the bed he had been sleeping in, allowing instinct to take over. Swiftly and silently she banged the top of the wooden head board, and the side fell away. Her hands shot in, not knowing what she was going to find, why there was a secret compartment in a spare bedroom, whether whatever she would find in here would help with the intruders… Just as the monsters reached the top of the stairs and started to seek them out her hands clasped something, cold and metallic and loose. She pulled, and withdrew the two items she had touched. Vincent went to turn on the light to allow her to see, but even though the room was pitch black save for her vampire friends glowing eyes she could already see what she was holding. Two swords, a Japanese katana and an Arabic scimitar. Another part of her brain engaged, instinct and knowledge working together in total harmony. Swords – She could handle swords. Uncle Hubert had taught her swordplay when she would visit, and these two were her particular favourites. The blood coursed through her veins, burning, setting her alight. She had never felt more alive than she did at this moment, being pounded with adrenalin and the thrill of an up and coming fight. For there would be a fight and she knew it. She could smell the blood lust in the air, not from Vincent, but from whatever had caught onto their scent and were at their door now.

"What are you doing?" Vincent hissed. "Are you insane…" His voice trailed off as a howl sounded and the wood off the door started to crack and splinter beneath the claws of the beasts. Vincent took an inadvertant step back, before lowering himself into an aggressive crouch, his lips retreating back over his teeth to reveal perfect wipe, deadly razors. "What are these things?" He hissed as the creatures tore through the door, one red eye visible through a chunk of wood that had just been removed. It locked eyes with the two people in the room, and let out a snarl so deadly it seemed to make the structure of the house quier in fear.  
"I don't know." She said in a deadly calm tone. "But they want us." There was a sickening crunch as the door finally gave way and the six decrepit dog like denizens burst into the room, snarling, drooling and foaming at the mouth. Within moments they had their prey circled, their demonic red eyes focused on only one thing. The kill. Cara raised the sword as the first leapt…


	12. Chapter 12 Internal Conflicts

A/N: Sorry guys, been really busy this last month. Just moved in to university and all that :) It's so cool! Well anyways, here's the next chapter to A Stitch In Time, special thanks to my two new reviewers AnimeRANDOMNESS and Ponda. Thanks guys! This one is for you, sorryabout the delay,

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It was almost like there were two different people residing in her mind now. There was Cara, the girl who'd found a vampire in her basement and had suffered from night terrors for the past few days. Cara was cowering in the corner as the monster leapt at her, inwardly making her will. However, there was also another her, who felt no fear at what she was about to do. A calculated, almost cold fighter. This Cara pulled her arm up, and slashed through the denizens stomache as it screamed in her face. She raised her other arm and shoved it away from her, not glancing as it bounced along the floor. She drew her hands up again, defensively in time to tackle with yet another creature – in all the engagement took all of 30 seconds.

Vincent watched her out of the corner of his eye as he struggled with his own pair of dogs, managing to get his hands round one and pull it apart from the middle and throwing it aside. No… It couldn't be. The way she moved, the confidence she had in her own abilities, that silver glint in her eyes it all reminded him of the horrific experiences he went through. If he didn't know better, if she hadn't saved him from his eternal agony, he'd think she was…  
"Watch out!" She roared, shoving him aside and driving her sword forward. He turned, in time to see snapping jaws millimeters from his throat, unable to get closer due to the sword protuding through its back. Vincent stared horrified, as a massive wound all around its middle started to knot back together, to heal. It was the one he'd just disposed of…

"They heal!" Cara swore, pushing the dog away from Vincent. "What ARE these things?" She ran another through, finding herself getting more and more overwhelmed. For the first time a mild worry started to rise. They regenerated, so how did she kill them?  
"I have no idea!" Vincent growled. "How the heck do we deal with th-" He was soon silenced as he was slammed into the floor. Gleaming red eyes boared into his, and a snap of teeth wounded as the utated muzzle went for his throat. And rolled to the side.  
"Going for the jugular? That's your job!" Cara grinned at him. "Do it better!" Before her eyes turned cold again, and she slashed repetitively at the regenerating carcass. "Cover for me! I need to find a way of destroying these things before we end up becoming Chum." The vampire nodded, standing infront of her to protecther back.

As she tried to destroy one, the dogs weren't the only thing he kept a very careful eye on. Tribe members had that glint, and that fighting style. Tribe members alone could move so effortlessly with killing impliments in their hands, and Tribe members alone could kill so much, with such a blasé attitude. Except for vampires, but she wasn't snapping the dogs necks – well, not yet anyway. He threw another creature to the side, snarling instinctively. He was surrounded at all sides by the enemy, and one of those enemies he was being forced to protect. There was no doubt about it, this girl was equally as dangerous, if not more so, then these dogs. But… She hadn't attacked him yet. Exacltly what time frame had he walked into?

"Alright!" Cara yelled turning round. "We need to break them down as far as we can. Theres a point which they cant regenerate back from, a damage maximum. Of course with this many we don't have time to focus on individuals, so grab a limb and start shredding!" She was suggesting they break the enemy down a bit at a time? Suicide! He watched as she leapt in, and started doing as she'd ordered. Maybe it was there only choice… Lashing out at the nearest mutant he latched his enhanced claws into the flesh and tore. He didn't have any choice but to follow her. For the moment…  
Cara's knee finally buckled and hit the floor as the last piece of flesh burned away into ash. It appeared once they had reached their damage maximum, the pieces just self destructed… And as she watched the last of the embers die away, and some of the ash fall through the cracks in the floorboards, she felt as if a red haze had been lifted from her. She clutched her head weakly and looked up, seeing Vincent towering over. He had an unreadable look on his face, but she thought she detected a trace of panic there. 'Probably the shock of the battle.' Her mind reasoned.  
"What… Just happened?" She muttered staring at him. He didn't respond, she could see almost an internal battle going on in his head. But what over. "Vincent?" Still he stared at her. He hadn't even offered her a hand up yet… "Vincent are you OK?" Suddenly, he seemed to click. His eyes widened, and he seemed to be looking at her rather than through her.  
"Yeah." He reached down. "I'm fine, sorry." She nodded, still confused, and took his hand.

Was he OK? Did she really just ask that? Vincent stopped his thought process, whether or not he should kill her or run, or stay and see what happens when she asked that. If she was a member of the Tribe, she'd never have asked if he was OK. She'd have run him through. So for now, he was safe with her. Until that otherside that held all those repressed tribal antics resurfaced – would she be able to hold them back? He didn't know, but he hoped she would. She was shaping up to be a pretty good… Ally. He reached down and offered her a hand, which she accepted.  
"Yeah. I'm fine, sorry."


End file.
